Exceeding Boundaries
by yukaraii
Summary: My fate was already written out for me even before my birth. And I do mean quite literally, after all, I was reborn into a manga series. But I will not be a sitting duck and allow my life to be controlled by anyone but myself. I will carve my own path, even if this path is made with countless sacrifices and bloodshed. Oh, and fuck you, Daemon. SI-OC insert. fem!Enma
1. Red

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.**

* * *

 **Summary:** My fate was already written out for me even before my birth. And I do mean quite literally, after all, I was reborn into a manga series. But I will not be a sitting duck and allow my life to be controlled by anyone but myself. I will carve my own path, even if this path is made with countless sacrifices and bloodshed. Oh, and fuck you, Daemon.

* * *

The world was a blur to me when I opened my eyes.

Color swapped into my vision, the edges of the different pigments merging and separating as my sight sharpened momentarily only to become unfocused again.

It had been so long since I was able to see.

I still remembered my death from my previous life. I had been a third year college student at a small, private college. The date of my death was on September 21, but at that time, it was nearing midnight, so it could've been the twenty second when I died. I recalled walking back home from my part time job at a printing press where I worked as an assistant to pay off my college tuitions. The night was dark when I left the building and headed for my apartment. I could clearly remember speeding up my strides as I crossed through the empty streets, my breath coming out in puffs of wispy smoke as it came into contact with the cold air.

The time on my phone read 11:49 PM.

I had to hurry home before my roommate begin to send me messages asking where I was. I didn't have unlimited texting. I need to pay for those texts, and as a poor college student, I did not appreciate the extra fees.

My boots clicked noisily against the pavement, even more so when the surrounding area was eerily quiet. In my rush to get to my apartment, I did not notice that the sidewalks are slick with the slight drizzle of rain nor did I bother to walk around the metal plates adorning the ground. That was a mistake on my part, I admit. I should've known that the the rain made the metal slippery, and with my two inch heels, I stood no chance against the lack of friction.

My shoes slid over the metal and the world around me tilted sideways. I found myself slamming violently onto the ground, the area around my lower skull gave a sickening crunch as it collapsed against the surface of the pavement. There were flashes of light. There was pain. Then there was nothing else.

My death was fast, but it definitely wasn't painless, so I was actually slightly relieved when the pain subsided into numbness and my vision faded black.

At the beginning, I believed I was still alive. Yes, I was surrounded by darkness, but I was optimistic. After all, I still retained my consciousness. If I was dead, I wouldn't be able to do that. Right?

But the longer I stayed in the dark, the less certain I became. I did not have my phone or any devices to help me tell time. I didn't know how many hours or days passed as I stayed in the void.

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't see.

But I could hear.

It was soft, but if I strained my ears, I could distinguish out a rhythm beating lightly above me. It was nice. It was the only thing I could grasp on to. It kept me sane.

 _Ba-tum._

 _Ba-tum._

It didn't take me long to realize the sound was a heartbeat.

But it wasn't my heartbeat.

The sound surrounds me. I soon realized that I was within a womb. That was my only explanation for the constant beating lullaby, the warmth that enveloped me, and the occasional murmur of a woman's voice.

I was going to be reborn.

I had never been a believer of reincarnation. I always thought that death was the loss of consciousness forever. There would be no heaven after death, just as there was no hell or afterlife. The dead would not even know they were dead.

However, if reincarnation meant a new chance at life again and an escape from this darkness, I would willing accept it.

 _Ba-tum._

* * *

 **Year 1**

Red.

Red was the first color I saw as it flared out in contrast to the other mundane colors.

My new mother had vibrant, crimson hair. The strands fell thickly over her shoulders and reached her back in soft waves. The color was not unlike that of clouds during a sunset, the skin or a ripe apple, or the glow of flames.

It was rather beautiful.

"It's a girl," my new mother whispered lovingly to whom I assumed to be my father. He was standing far to the back of the room, making it difficult for me to distinguish his features. "She's beautiful."

I let out a tiny gurgled as she raised me to her chest. My chubby legs wiggled around in the air before being tucked away at the crook of her arms. My mother cooed at me and murmured something in a foreign language that did not sound like Japanese.

I sleepily grabbed onto a strand of her bright hair once it was within reach, completely fascinated by the unique color and tugged lightly at the strands before shoving it into my mouth. Mother made a small sound of disapproval.

"I think she's hungry, Hitomi," the man suggested, walking over. "She's so adorable."

Mother smiled as I continued to suck at her hair, "Of course she is. She is my little Enma after all."

* * *

 **Year 2**

My first year in my new life passed by in a haze of distorted images and fading memories. While I was a grown adult, my body was that of a child. My brain was still undeveloped and I found it impossible to remember vivid details during my first year.

Sure, I could recognize the faces of my parents, but I was unable to remember small details. I didn't remember the first word I spoke in this life, the first cartoon show on the television, or the first thing I ate that was not milk.

My brain was not the only thing that needed to grow.

I paddled with my unsteady legs to the other side of the hallway, determined to make it halfway across the carpeted floor before toppling over. I was strengthening my leg muscles. As a kid, I was just a roll of bones, skin, and fat. I didn't have any muscles to allow me to travel around the house nor move heavy objects around. I was pretty much useless without my mother.

That was unnerving for me. I was accustomed to being able to take care of myself. I prided myself as an independent woman, and being unable to even manage the smallest of tasks (walking) made me feel insecure.

My stubby legs brought me to the other end of the hallway and I cheered inwardly at my success. I plopped down on the spot I stopped at, already fatigued by the ten meters of walking I did. As my body rejuvenate, I took the chance to observe the hallway.

Most of the house was still unfamiliar to me, because I spent most of my time in my crib. I only managed to get out when my mother left me on the floor of my bedroom while she went to finish the laundries.

I peered curiously at the paintings that lined the walls. There was an oil painting of a woman in a Victorian era gown, her golden hair wrapped around her slim body and a blush colored her cheeks. Next to that painting was a portrait of a farmer working in the fields. The drawing was intricately detailed to the point where I could see beads of sweat forming on his sun tanned face and dripping down from the rim of his straw hat. A few other drawings were done in black ink with kanji and hiragana words decorating the sides. Numerous artworks hung from the pastel walls.

Most of these artworks were from my father's collection and meant to be sold within the next month. My father was an art dealer and he collected art from artists all over the world and sell it to art admirers or auction them out. Sometimes, I could catch a glimpse of black suited men as Father led them through the many hallways of the house to show them his display of artworks, hoping that the buyers would purchase a few.

I waded out of the halls and into the kitchen once my legs regained their energy. I saw Father sitting in one of the blue, plastic chairs near the kitchen table and stumbled over to him. His breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon laid out on the table half-eaten as he read his morning newspapers.

"Papa," I greeted as soon as I stepped foot into the brightly lit room. "Papa, good morning."

My father's eyes lit up and he immediately discarded his papers in favor of lifting me up in the air. I froze and frowned unhappily as I was heaved up above his head.

"My little pumpkin! What are you doing so early in the morning?" he laughed loudly as I continued to struggle against his grip, not liking the feeling of being so high in the air. It was dangerous. What if he accidentally drop me? "Where is mama?"

"Mommy is washing clothes," I informed and let out a relieved sigh when he placed me down on the floor gently. "After that, she is going to the market to buy fish. We are having fish for dinner tonight."

I paused momentarily to contemplate the situation. If my mother was going outside, there was a good chance that I could persuade my father to let me go with her.

It was not like I didn't get to leave the house at all, but that wouldn't stop me from grasping at any chances of going outside. In my past life, I was a huge fan of the Japanese culture and I was pretty certain that I was borned in some part of Japan in this life. I wanted to see the streets of Japan and experience their culture.

"Papa?" I beginned, staring at my father and making my eyes as wide and innocent as I could. I could see him visibly melting at my gaze. "Can I go to the market too?"

I knew I won the moment he flung himself from his chair and rushed to beg my Mother to bring me along with her.

An hour later, I was tucked safely in my mother's arms as she wandered through the streets in search of discounted items and fresh groceries. Although it was only eight in the morning, the streets were already crowded with people looking for the best deals.

Signs with Japanese words fluttered in the breeze and smoke rose out from a few restaurants. I breathed in deeply as Mother carried me past a ramen shop, inhaling the sweet scent of noodles and broth. My stomach grumbled a little but the noises from the street covered it up. I already had eggs for breakfast, so I didn't really need the extra food.

Mother and I passed by many stores, sometimes stopping briefly to glance at the items on sale. We didn't stay long at any of the shops, but by the time it was near noon, Mother had more than four bags of food items on one arm and me on another. I silently applauded her strength. The wonders of a housewife.

"Enma-chan," my mother called as we walked home from our trip. "There is a new playground around this area. Would you like to stop there for a moment? You can make some new friends."

I regarded the red haired woman wordlessly. While it was a nice gesture on her part, I was not too fond of socializing, especially with kids. Just think about all the snot I would have to deal with. But, I could also see the fatigue on my mother's face. She must be tired from all the heavy bags she lugged around (and she was also carrying me, adding even more to her burden).

I was incapable of walking long distances with my toddler body, so the only way to let her rest was to agree to go to the park.

I stared into her jaded eyes and nodded in approval, gaining a small smile from her and she began heading towards the direction of where I assumed the park to be.

The place was filled to the brim with noisy, snotty kids. I almost regretted my choice of agreeing to come here. Mother set me down on one of the empty benches on the outskirt of the park and placed the large bags of grocery by my side. Meanwhile, I watched as children raced across the rubber floors, hung from blue monkey bars, and screamed "tag!" to one another. The idea of joining into the crowd did not appeal to me.

I swung my legs back and forth as I sat sulking on the bench, my white boots kicking up at the air before falling back.

Mother sat on the left of me, enjoying a bottle of tea she brought from a nearby vending machine. I had no idea when she went to buy the drink.

We stayed like this for a while, until she finished her drink and ask me to wait while she went in search of a restroom. I stared at her retreating figure until she disappeared around the corners of a dusty, brick building. I sighed as I kicked my legs up harder. I was growing bored of just sitting around but at the same, I didn't want to move around.

Gazing at the sky, I began to sink into my own thoughts. My body was unfamiliar to me even after two years. I was not used to this delicate frame. Every time I look into the mirror, I expected to see a brunet with light eyes and sharp cheekbones, not the round softness of baby cheeks or the shock of red hair. And the eyes. I had never seen eyes anything like mine. My pupils were not black. Instead, the center of my eyes were only a shade darker than the rest of the surrounding areas. A dark ring formed around where my pupil should be, with four points jagging outwards. My eyes were weird, unique yes, but definitely weird as well. No one ever commented on them, but I did received some curious glances occasionally.

I looked nothing like my previous self, and as the day drifted past, I became more and more afraid that I would start forgetting about my past life. Even now, I was incapable of recalling the faces or names of my parents from my former life. How much was I forgetting? Was I able to stop this process?

I breathed in deeply through my lips. Speaking about my parents, my current mother and father were becoming more and more distant towards me. I didn't blame them. Ever since my birth, I acted aloof and detached. For the newlywed couple, I was an enigma. I did not act like the usual children, and that was reasonable to me, considering that I wasn't a child mentally. But to my parents, they became clueless on how to act towards me. My mother was awkward near me, seemingly unsure what to say, while my father attempted to 'lighten up my mood' by always cuddling me or speaking to me like he would with any two year olds. He called me his little pumpkin or his cute Enma-chan.

Enma.

That was my name. I remembered hearing that name from a Japanese folktale I happened upon during my high school years. Enma was the homophone for the Japanese name Yama, who happened to be the judge of the dead in the Japanese legends. He decided and controlled the fate of the decreased, which I found quite ironic considering I was one of those 'decreased'. Still, I didn't deem it as a suitable name for a child.

I did not know my last name. My parents never mentioned it before, and it was not like there would be some important documents lying around with their surnames printed on it. Also, it wasn't a crucial detail for me to know. Names didn't matter much to me anyways, after all, Enma wasn't my first–

"Hey, you! Ugly red head!"

I jolted out of my daydream, lifting up my head to meet the glare of a boy no more than four years old. Yet, despise his age, his figure loomed over me threatenly. I tensed when I realized he was not alone. Four other kids banded his side, each one making themselves appear tough and strong. It would've appeared silly, but in my tiny two year old body, they looked imposing and, well, scary. The current situation does not look good.

"What can I do for you?" I started, voice formal but wary.

The leader sneered, "You're ugly! Look at your hair! It's looks exactly like a tomato!"

I suppressed a groan of annoyance. Of course… _bullies_.

"Thanks," I replied, not allowing the irritation I was feeling show in my voice. "But can you please leave me alone?"

They wouldn't, but at least I could try reasoning. After all, they were kids. There was no reason to be mad at them. They were just harmless kids….

One of the brats on the side decided it was a good moment to snatch my hair in his fist and give it a sharp tug. I could feel some strands ripping off from my scalp and I froze with realization that my hair was being torn away from my head.

….

They were asking for a fight, so a fight they would get.

With speed I wasn't aware I had in this body of a toddler, I jabbed my finger into the eyes of the offender, successfully making him loosen his hold on my hair. He screamed loudly before stumbling away and tripping over his own feet. Before any of the other bullies could react, I leaped over the bench and shot off away from the playground, all the while pelting them with grapes I had grabbed from the grocery bags.

"After her!" one shouted and the whole squad charged after me. I scuttled away as fast as I could, but I could feel that my legs were already losing strength. Unless I find a place to hide or an adult to deal with the bullies, I was going to be beaten up. The thought didn't interest me in the very least.

Making a sharp turn into a lane of bushes that adorned the sides of the park, I jumped into one of the leafy shrubs and held my breath. The branches scraped my skin but the leaves managed to cover me from view.

My chest rose and fell erratically as the group skid to a halt near my hiding spot. I clutched my nose to minimize the noise of my breathing, praying that they wouldn't discover my hiding spot.

"Where is she!"

"How should I know? I'm still blinded!"

My heart beated rapidly within my chest as I watched the kids searched around the nearby area for me.

"Once I get my hands on her, I will cut off all her hair!"

 _Ba-tum._

 _Ba-tum_

Many of the kids were beating at the bushes with sticks they picked from the ground, hoping to find me in one of the shrubs. I tensed as one boy drew ominously close to the bush I was cowering in.

"What are you doing?"

I twitched faintly when a new voice resounded through the park. It sounded feminine and has a childish tint to it, but it was no less commanding. Poking away a few leaves, I peered out from the bush to capture the sight of the bullies inching away from the new figure.

"S-s-suzuki! What are you doing here?" the leader squeaked, losing all his previous arrogance and confidence.

The figure replied coldly, "I was just asking the same about you. Are you pestering the other children with your detestable group of underlings again?"

Twin metal fans flashed into her hands, and she slid into a defensive stance, fully prepared to fight. Not that she had to, because the bullies took one look at her, screamed, and darted away in different directions.

The figure relaxed her stance and slipped her weapons back under her skirt.

"There is no reason for you to hide anymore. Come out."

I slowly crawled out from the bush, stray twigs in my hair and a sheepish smile plastered on my face.

"Thank you," I said once I picked myself from the ground and shook the dust off my clothes. "I really appreciated your help. I thought they were going to get me…."

I heaved a sigh of relief before turning my gaze to the girl, noticing the frown on her face, the way her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and the red coloration of her eyes that were strangely similar to mine.

She was also imposingly tall.

"You should be more careful next time," the girl chided disapprovingly. "Simon is a pretty safe town, but you must not get careless."

I bowed in gratitude, "Thank you for the warning. I will make sure to be more cautious next time."

Wait.

My eyes widened in shock.

Wait.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

"What… was this town called again?" I managed out weakly, my insides twisting and churning. "Was it… Simon?"

Please say no. Please say no. _Pleasepleaseplease_.

At the girl's curious gaze and firm nod, I felt bile rising up my throat.

Enma.

Enma was my name. I remembered hearing that name from a Japanese folktale. I remembered it as the homophone for the Japanese name Yama, the judge of the dead.

But it wasn't only that.

Enma.

I was Enma Kozato, descendant of Cozarto Simon, user of the Earth Flames, and future mafia boss of the Simon Famiglia.

An image flashed before my eyes, black print on white paper. Corpses with their blood splattered against walls. Flesh torn apart… lifeless bodies. All in a single page of a book.

The Flood of Blood.

Suzuki Adelheid stood stolidly as I vomited my partially digested breakfast onto her jacket.

* * *

 **A/N:** 3500+ words in a single chapter! That's a new record for me!

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :)

I also need a beta, so if anyone is willing to help me, I will greatly appreciate it! Please PM me if you are interested!


	2. Choices

Numbness ate away at me as I laid on the soft mattress of my bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate leisurely with dull eyes. The breeze of air that the fan sent did nothing to comfort me, but I did appreciate the coolness it brought. The moment of silence allowed my thoughts to wander.

My family was going to die.

That was inevitable. I had seen it with my eyes, even if the future I saw was merely cheap paper with characters printed on them in ink. The blood soaked walls, the limp bodies, and the shattered furnitures that showed signs of a struggle. Futile struggle, I thought bitterly. After all, it was so easy for Daemon to wipe out a family with no flame potentials. Who could stand up against the Mist Guardian of the Vongola Family?

The bitterness seeped further into my body. I was powerless to stop my fate. My parents were going to die, which would possibly leave me with no defense against the less than kind nature of this world. And I didn't mean only mafia families and revenge-seeking monsters. Where would I end up after the death of Kozato Makoto and Kozato Hitomi? An orphanage? A shelter? Or on the streets?

The manga never stated how Enma managed to support himself after the tragedy. Yes, he had his friends– those six guardians of his– but friends could only do so much. It would be unwise of me to depend on those kids, especially since one of them became a vessel for Daemon Spade. They could easily turn against me. I couldn't allow that.

Furthermore, I had no idea how to befriend them even if I decided to rely on their help. I lack the charms that Enma had to draw his guardians in. I was not charismatic. I was not kind or forgiving. I had no redeemable qualities, as much as I hated to admit. I didn't possess the social skills to just go up to one of them and immediately become best buddies.

I sighed deeply and burrowed further into my blanket, using the sheet to form a cocoon around myself.

There was another thing that concerned me.

Bullying.

Enma was portrayed as a gloomy and introverted character (now that I thought about it, he was not too much unlike myself) who became a victim of bullying. I bit back a laugh of distaste. Please, he was the target for all the bullies in his middle school and the entire neighborhood. And if things were to follow the storyline, I would be subjected to the bullying just like he did.

I was defenseless no matter how you looked at it. Whether it be against a near-immortal mist user or a squad of snot-dripping kids, I was unable to protect myself.

The thought sent a shot of anger racing through my veins. I disdained the fact that I was impotent, that I was incapable of protecting myself, let alone my family. The unfairness of this fate added in another flash of white-hot anger. Why me? Why did I have to die only to be born into a life with nothing but a painful future awaiting for me?

It was despicable. I badly wanted to laugh at the cruelty of this world.

Why me?

I couldn't save anything. I was hopeless.

My parents would die in front of my eyes, their lives slipping from my fingers like grains of sand pouring from one end of an hourglass to another.

And– and–

I didn't realize the wetness on my cheeks until my tears soaked into the cocoon of blankets I built, dampening the cloth. I mindlessly wiped away the moisture from my eyes as something else occurred to me through the blaze of my anger-fueled rant.

Didn't… I also have a sister in this life?

A lot of things were slipping from my memory, and this was one of them. I could still envision wisps of a girl with a cheery hairpin. Her short hair was supposed to be red, just like mother's, but on the pages of the manga, it was a colorless hue of gray.

She was so young when she died.

… Disgusting.

This world was disgusting.

I pulled in a breath of air as the thoughts swelled my mind. There was nothing I could do about it. I was insignificant. I was weak. There was no way I could bring any changes to this world.

oOo

Mother hovered worryingly around me the next morning, her eyes flickering constantly as she prepared breakfast for me. Her obvious concern made me uncomfortable. I couldn't pinpoint why I felt such unease at my mother's presence, but I suspect that it stemmed from my realization that I was reborned into a storybook.

Were my parents even real?

Weren't they only characters in a book used as a scapegoat to push the plot forward?

I fidgeted when my mother's glances landed on me again and jolted when I felt a finger poked my side.

"Enma-chan, are you feeling better?" Mother inquired, her hand smoothing out my hair. "When I got back to the park, you were sitting on the ground and mumbling incoherently to yourself."

"I had a headache yesterday, but 'm fine now."

Although my voice wavered, I gave a smile of reassurance to Mother, who returned a small nod before beaming back.

"That's good to hear! I was so worried about you. Say, wasn't Suzuki-chan with you? Her mother called yesterday and asked if you want to go to her house today. Since you are feeling better, I will take you there after breakfast!"

I blinked rapidly, barely registering all the information before I began tugging vigorously at the hem of my mother's sleeve.

"Mama, I don't think this is a good idea." I made a desperate attempt to change her mind. "I don't think Suzuki-san will appreciate strangers going to her house." Especially not someone who threw up on her.

But my mother was not persuaded, so we arrived at Adelheid's house before noon. The house was adorned with rose bushes which grew thickly in the front lawn, covering the sides of the house and eating away at any bare ground left. I made numerous attempts to avoid the flowers in fear that their thorns would find a way into my skin. My mother, on the other hand, bravely crosses the stone path to the front door, disregarding how the plants snatched onto her dress.

"Hello, is anyone here?" she called out once she reached the door. One of her hands reached out to knock on the wood while the other gestured for me to hurry up and follow her. With one last withering look at the roses, I hobbled with my baby legs toward my mother (thank the lords she carried me all the way to the house before dropping me at the front lawn).

By the time I reached my mother, the door had already opened to reveal a tall woman. Her features were striking: sharp eyes, dark hair, and well-defined cheekbones. I had seen those characteristics before but on a younger face, and I knew immediately who the woman was.

"Kotone-san," Mother greeted Adelheid's mother politely, her lips pulling into a soft smile. "How have you been? We haven't seen each other for such a long time, but you look young as always."

 _Acquaintances_ , my mind supplied, _most likely classmates from their old high school._

"You've been faring well too, Hitomi-san," the tall lady dipped her head in greeting before moving out of the doorway to allow us entrance. Mother immediately scooped me up and carried me into the house. "I never knew you had a daughter. I believe she is the same age as Suzuki, perhaps younger."

Mother hummed, "I think that's correct. Your daughter is four years old while Enma here is born in June two years ago. She's approaching her third birthday this year. She's growing up so fast!"

I squirmed away in discomfort as my mother rubbed her cheeks with mine as a sign of adoration. No. No touch. I do not want this much affection. Adelheid's mother chuckled slightly at my obvious signs of unease.

"Suzuki is in her room upstairs. One of her classmates is visiting today as well."

Mother beamed, "Oh? Is that so? The more the merrier then!" She gently shifted her arms to make me more comfortable as I huddled to her side. "Enma-chan, are you ready to meet some new friends?"

I stared expressionlessly at the woman.

No.

"Yes, mama."

oOo

Suzuki Adelheid's room was relatively simple. The walls are painted a pastel yellow, allowing most of the sunlight coming through a large, opened window to reflect and lit up the space. A bed was pushed against the left side and a desk decorated the wall holding the window. However, what caught my eyes was the cowering figure of a boy on top of a closet as an angry, red-eyed girl smashed her fans against the furniture, no doubt trying to make the figure fall off. The closet shook violently, causing the boy to yelp and clutch onto the sides. He shot a pleading look towards where we are, eyes begging for us to save him.

"Um," said my mother as she slowly backed away from the scene.

"It's a game of tag," Kotone-san explained as she rested a hand on Mother's shoulders to prevent her from stepping away any further. "It gets a little aggressive sometimes, but they never get too… badly injured."

That seemed to be enough to persuade my mother, because she brightened immediately and dropped me on the soft carpet of Adelheid's room.

"Well, if that's the case, have fun, Enma-chan!" she chirped happily, blind to the look of betrayal and despair I gave her as she shut the door to the room, locking me in with a bloodthirsty child.

Adelheid halted momentarily in her attack to spare me a brief glance before resuming her ferocious assault on the closet. The boy on top of the furniture sobbed.

"..." I said as I slowly inched away from the duo, disregarding any cries for help as I seated myself in a corner farthest away from the commotion. Huddling against the wall, I began to watch the scene mutely. A dent was expanding in size on the wooden doors of the closet every time the metal of the fans connected with it. Judging by the ominous groan of the wood, the closet wouldn't last long before it came down, yet, Adelheid continued to bash at the wardrobe.

I pulled my gaze upwards to the figure now dangling on a side of the closet, fingers gripping desperately on the rim to prevent himself from falling to his doom. Wide, red eyes plead me to save him. But, what could I do against a fan-wielding fanatic?

 _Poor guy… wonder how he got into this situation…_

Wait.

I shot up when I processed the information.

Red eyes.

Red eyes that look exactly like like mine. Like all the characters in the Simon Famiglia.

 _No way._

At a closer look at the boy, I felt a shiver crawled up my back. The boy was no older than four, sporting a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and a baseball cap. And while he lacked the goatee that he would gain after puberty, I recognized who he was.

Julie Katou.

There was no reason for me to be afraid, because he was still a child and was not yet possessed by Daemon Spade. But still, it was difficult to keep the feeling of fear from expanding from being so close to a potential vessel of the mist user or realizing how vulnerable we were to the influence of Spade. It was so easy for him to possess a member of the Simon Famiglia in the original story, and this spoke number to the power he had. Spade could turn anyone into a puppet at his disposal, whether it was my family or my friends, and use them against me.

That was horrifying.

While I knew he only targeted Julie in the manga, I could not rule out the possibility that Spade would not control any other people around me. Actually, I was quite certain he would. There is the butterfly effect to take into consideration, and my actions would be completely different from what the real Enma would do. My choices could change what others would do. This can lead to a future vastly different from the one I read in the book.

For example, unlike the real Enma, I don't plan to revive the Simon Famiglia. My choice here would mean that P. Shitt, Kaoru Mizuno, Rauji Ooyama, Koyo Aoba, Adelheid Suzuki, and Julie Katou would not be affiliated with the mafia nor activate their flames. Without the Simon Famiglia, there would be fewer people Spade could use against me, and I would not be burdened with maintaining a chaotic and dysfunctional family. While forming the Simon Famiglia would seem like the best option for me if I wanted to keep my parents and younger sister safe, it obviously wouldn't have worked.

The guardians' powers couldn't even compare to the power Spade displayed in the Inheritance Ceremony Arc.

There were other ways I could take to make myself stronger and awaken my flames. I could always train myself, and since I have seen the real Enma's abilities, it was just a matter of replicating those abilities. There was little chance that I would succeed if I went with this but it was still an option. I could also seek help from strong and influential mafia families, however, it was highly debatable whether they would be willing to help.

Alright, I admit it. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this mess.

My knowledge of the future wouldn't help. It was useless information, and it sure as hell wouldn't help me save my family.

But there must be a way. It was just that I couldn't find it yet. I still had a few years left before Daemon Spade come to kill my family. I still have time–

"Kozato."

I blinked out of my stupor and nearly shot out of my skin when my gaze met with Adelheid's as she hovered over my much shorter height. Her face was blank and the hint of … concern in her voice must have been my imagination.

"Y-yes, Adelheid-san?" I muttered dumbly, realizing that both Adelheid and the boy was staring at me strangely. Adelheid had stopped her brutal onslaught and instead chose to give me a slightly perplexed look. "Is something wrong?"

From the corner of my eyes, I caught a glimpse of Julie pulling away from the closet and gently lowering himself onto the desk near him, making sure his landing was light enough to avoid attracting any attention from the preoccupied girl.

"Are you still unwell? You stood up abruptly and looked pale," Adelheid probed a finger at my cheeks, and I could only nod mutely at her as my gaze switched back and forth between Adelheid's (scary) eyes and the boy attempting to escape. "The restroom is on the left side of the halls if you need to…"

I flinched at the sudden dark look that flitted past the girl's face.

"Kozato, what are you looking at?"

Julie stiffened from his position on the desk.

"Something behind me, isn't it?" twin metal fans flashed out once again as Adelheid turned around with an animalistic growl. " _Julie_."

Said boy screeched loudly in fright and scrambled to get off the desk. The glacier flame user dashed forward to land a hit, and she would've succeeded if Julie didn't slip on a parchment of paper lying on the desk. The accident helped him avoid the swipe from the fans, but his lack of balance caused him to crashed against the window near the desk.

I gasped in horror as the window panes snapped open, leaving nothing to stop the boy from falling out the third-story window.

In my shock, I didn't even realize my own actions as I rushed to grab hold of the flailing arms, hoping to pull Julie into safety. But the rules of physic still applied despite being reborned into an anime, so it was not surprising when I found myself slipping out of the window too and tumbling to my death.

There was nothing to break our fall. There were no trees or any conveniently placed bush to save us.

And so we fell.

* * *

 **A/N: Aha.. aha. How long has it been since the last time I've updated? (so sorry)**

 **But, wow! 30 favs and 50 follows! This makes me very happy** **(/^▽^)/ Thank you for all the support!**

 **°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°**


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